I Dream of You
by Arober
Summary: Harry Potter had survived the Triwizard Tournament. So had Cedric Diggory. Now, after stopping Lord Voldemort from rising, the boys forge an odd understanding, a bond only they can comprehend. As they head back to Hogwarts, the Dark Lord prepares to rise again and take his vengeance on the two of them. There will DEFINITELY be some Harry/Cedric action. And Egyptian myths. Yes.
1. Chapter 1: Visions

**Author's notes: **This is my first fic ever published on this site. But I felt I simply needed to tell the story of Harry and Cedric, who are my favorite never-a-couple from the entire series. So please, enjoy. And if you do, please leave a comment. I'm not begging for reviews, I just wanna know if it's even worth writing.

* * *

**Chapter One: Visions**

Harry Potter stood helplessly, his feet glued to the ground by a spell he could not break. He watched Wormtail lift up his wand and shoot a ray of green light in Cedric Diggory's direction. He tried to scream but his lips were sown shut. He looked as Cedric's lifeless body fell in the mud, his eyes still open, staring straight into Harry's. He heard a loud, high-pitched cackle that he knew belonged to Lord Voldemort, that little bundle of rags resting in Peter Pettigrew's arms.

And then he woke up. He woke up very audibly, gasping for air and sitting up in his bed right off the bat. It took him a long three seconds to remember that it was just a dream. None of that had ever happened. Cedric survived the graveyard. The both did.

Then why did he keep on having those dreams?

It was never the same dream, though. Always a different one, but always ending in the same exact way. With Cedric Diggory dead at Harry's feet. It terrified him to the point where he was reluctant to even go to sleep, for fear of seeing the boy he had come to respect – and kind of like – die over and over again.

Two weeks ago he had confided in Hermione about the problem. The best suggestion she had, was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Ron was still in the dark, probably suspecting that his friend had a mild case of insomnia. Nothing disruptive.

Harry was exhausted. He stood up from the bed and put his green dressing gown on. He reached for his glasses and set them on his nose. He really needed to clean those, he could barely see through the grease and the dust that had accumulated over the course of his stay at The Burrow. He and Hermione arrived three weeks prior to the day and Harry could not believe that tomorrow they would have to go to school.

Usually during the summer, when he was at the Dursley's, he simply could not wait to get back to Hogwarts. But staying with the Weasleys and Hermione? Well, that was a completely different story. He could stay here forever, chasing the chickens and throwing garden gnomes over the fence. Especially this year, short two months after fighting Voldemort again and winning again. He knew, though, that there would come a day to face that monster again.

And what would happen if he didn't have Cedric, Hermione or Ron at his side to help him and save his skin once more? He shivered with dread at the thought.

Slowly, he dragged his feet out of the room, being as quiet as possible, so as not to wake up Ron, who was still snoring happily and very, very roaringly. Maybe that was the cause of Harry's nightmares? Maybe the dreams were just a way for Harry's subconscious mind to let him know that it was time to sleep in a room that did not have Ron and his loudness in it?

A joke. Finally, something to smile about.

He went downstairs and into the kitchen. To his surprise, Hermione was already sitting at the table, fully clothed, her hair in a bushy ponytail. She was leaning over a giant book filled with nothing but tiny text. Harry suspected it was a required reading for one of the very many classes she was taking, one he was not even intending to bother with.

"Oh, hello, Harry," Hermione said, not tearing her stare from the book for even a split second. "I didn't see you there."

"You still haven't seen me, you're reading."

"There's bacon on the stove," she responded absent-mindedly.

Harry grabbed some bacon from the frying pan and got three pieces of toast from the breadbasket. He sat opposite the girl and busied himself with eating. After three minutes, he started to suffer severely from hiccups so he stood back up and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it in one impressively massive gulp.

Hermione closed the book shut and Harry could swear he saw a cloud of dust rising from it.

"I can't read when you're being that loud," she said scoldingly.

"What is that book, anyway?" asked Harry and then held his breath to get rid of the hiccups.

"It's about mythologies. All the different ones. You simply wouldn't believe the magic that the ancient Egyptians knew, and you just know Professor Binns would never teach us about that stuff, and there is one spell in particular that I'm _dying_ to try out when we get back to..." When she saw the expression on Harry's face, raised eyebrows and a mocking smile to boot, she stopped talking for a second. She visibly deflated a little, as if the sheer enthusiasm was the only thing sustaining her. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"What do you think is wrong?" He said, all of a sudden a little bit angry. Mostly at himself.

"Another one of those dreams, huh? That's... Harry, I promise, tonight after the party I'll start going through all my books. Who knows, maybe it's a curse of some sort. Do you have some enemies who might want to drive you insane?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe _Lord Voldemort_?" Harry replied sarcastically.

"Yes, of course, but I don't think it's him. You have to be in a very close vicinity to someone to put that kind of a curse on them. Maybe it's... You know, I think Professor Binns once told us about a wizard driven insane by nightmares magically sent by his wife in the 1760's. I'll wager it's still in my notes. I had better go through them." She started to walk out of the kitchen, never once ceasing to talk, mostly to herself. Harry grabbed her by the arm and stopped her in her tracks.

"Hermione, don't, okay? I bet... I bet it's just residual stress or something. Once we're back at Hogwarts, I'll relax and the nightmares will most probably stop."

"I guess that would be expected after the trauma you and Cedric had endured," Hermione mused. "And it's perfectly normal that you would have nightmares about losing someone you care about."

"What? I don't... care about Cedric," Harry protested, a little bit offended.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Harry," she explained quickly, grabbing the book and holding it in front of herself for protection. "Cedric is a good person and I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of a bond between the two of you after what you had survived together."

"There's no bond. I haven't talked to the bloke for, like, two months."

"Well, he _will _be at your party tonight. Mrs Weasley thought it was only appropriate to invite him and his parents."

"Great." Harry was not too ecstatic to hear the news. He had spent the whole summer thinking about Cedric and worrying about him. He himself was sort of used to being in danger of losing his life every year. It was a given to him. But for Cedric, other than facing a dragon and being threatened by angry Mermen, it was a definite first. It could change a person. And Harry wondered what a near-death experience could do to the boy.

But did it mean he cared?

"So, what will you be doing today?" Hermione asked, ripping him out of the train of confusing thoughts.

"I don't know. Packing, I guess." He shrugged, throwing Cedric out of his mind for now. It was the day of his birthday party and the last day of summer vacation. It was a day to celebrate, not worry. "You?"

"Reading about magically induced dreams. And knitting hats in the process, I suppose."

"Knitting hats? What for?" It wasn't the strangest thing Hermione had ever said, but it certainly made the top of the list.

"You'll see," she answered, smiling smugly. She definitely was up to something but Harry had no energy to inquire any further. He was already exhausted and the day had barely even started.

Once Hermione left the kitchen, Harry sat down at the table and returned to his already cold bacon. After ten minutes or so, Mrs Weasley entered the room, humming quietly under her nose. Harry thought he recognized the tune, but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had probably heard it on the radio Mrs Weasley was constantly playing while cooking.

"Oh, Harry, dear!" she greeted him heartily. "I did your laundry, it's waiting for you on your bed, right next to our broomstick and a stack of books. You can just throw them into your trunk before the party."

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley, you're the best," he replied, smiling from ear to ear. Why would he ever want to leave this place?

"Do you want some breakfast? I'm making eggs for the rest of the kids."

"Thanks, but I've already eaten. Hermione made bacon."

"Hm." Mrs Weasley snorted, outraged that someone dared do the cooking. "I guess that's alright. She probably meant well. Harry, could you be a dear and get me some eggs from the hen house? The kids like them fresh."

"Sure, Mrs Weasley."

Harry stood up and walked out of the house. It was a clear, sunny day, though there was distinct briskness in the air. He looked at the chickens, so plain and simple, yet probably infinitely content with their lives. He looked at the green surrounding him every which way he turned his eyes. Yeah, definitely. Why would he ever want to leave?

* * *

Cedric Diggory woke up with a jerk. He had that dream again. The one where he was just a split second too late . He had screamed _Accio!_ and grabbed Harry's hand, but before the Portkey reached them, there was a blast of green light and Harry's body succumbed to the ground, dragging Cedric down with it. Then the world swirled around them in a mad, colorless flurry and they lay right next to each other on Hogwarts grounds. The crowds cheered. If only they knew that The Boy Who Lived had not exactly _lived_ up to his name...

But it was just a dream. A dream he kept on having, practically every other night.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and lay back down. He tried to relax but he could feel his heart attempting to thump its way out of his bare chest. Facing Lord Voldemort, even in that state, was the most terrifying experience in his life and he was sure nothing would ever top it.

He desperately needed to talk about it to somebody but there was no one. No one he could open up to. His parents didn't know and they would never understand. His best friend, Cho Chang, either. She still thought that the two boys simply won The Tournament.

Harry Potter was the only person who would. The only person, other than Cedric himself, who had stood in front of the Dark Lord and survived to tell the tale. Or, rather, keep quiet about the tale.

Cedric had attempted to write multiple letters to Harry over the summer, reach out in any way. He would always end up tearing the parchment into pieces or throwing it into the fireplace. There were no right words to write. That was why he was elated to get an invitation to the boy's fifteenth birthday party. He could finally talk to him. Look at him. Make sure it was all real. The mere thought of Harry Potter's existence made him calm down a little bit.

Suddenly, he heard a noise outside his bedroom door. The sound of the floor creaking. Then, when the knob started to turn around, he quickly grabbed his wand, his heart beating insanely fast once again. He readied himself for an attack and quickly picked a spell that would incapacitate his opponent. He wouldn't let the Dark Mark hover above his house.

His mother entered the bedroom. She looked at Cedric, sitting up in his bed and pointing his wand at him.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asked. "We heard you screaming in your sleep and now you're..."

"Yeah, I'm... I'm fine, Mum." He put the wand down on the end table. He felt like an idiot. It was morning. The Death Eaters do not attack in the morning. "I just... had a bad dream. I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"If you say so, Cedric. Now, get dressed and get downstairs for breakfast. We've got a big day today."

_Yeah_, Cedric thought. _A big day. _


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival

**Chapter Two: Arrival**

The evening was looming closer and closer, and with it the party Harry was dreading. He was sure it would be fantastic to see friends like Hagrid, Lupin, especially Sirius, but the thought of meeting up with Cedric Diggory filled him with a feeling of incredible uneasiness. He knew that Hermione had been right before, about the bond. Even though he hadn't seen Cedric in months, he constantly found himself thinking about him, what state he was in, how he was coping. However, those weren't feelings he was willing to confront in any way.

On the other hand, he knew nobody, except for Dumbledore, who had survived an intimate meeting with Lord Voldemort. It was kind of nice that he wasn't the only Boy Who Lived. Now there were two. And the fact that it made him less special oddly made him feel better. Less... alone.

_At least one thing to celebrate today,_ Harry thought, looking in the mirror and trying desperately to run a comb through his hair. It was a daunting, hopeless task. He gave up and just changed into a white shirt Mrs Weasley had ironed for him. She didn't necessarily understand Muggle clothing, but she certainly knew how to make it look good. _That_ was real magic.

"You ready?" Ron asked, buttoning up his own shirt. "I can hear the vein in my Mum's forehead pumping, we're so late."

"We're not late," joined in Hermione, who had been ready for at least half an hour, dressed in a simple knee-length green dress. She was flipping through her History of Magic notes, a long and tedious reading for everyone who wasn't Hermione Granger. She seemed very intent on finding the cause of Harry's nightmares, even though he was absolutely sure that no magic was actually involved in his ailment. Just stress. And weird, confusing feelings. Feelings all around. "The party doesn't start for at least forty-five minutes."

"Which means we're an hour late," said Ron frustratedly.

"Calm down, Ron." Harry tried to tie a tie around his neck but failed miserably. He threw it away and sighed heavily. His hair was a disaster and he was seemingly getting a pimple on his forehead. "You'll be with Hermione and me, there's no way your Mum's telling us off tonight. You're safe."

"Definitely," Hermione said, though it was apparent she wasn't paying attention. "_Yes_!" she exclaimed suddenly, her voice clear and triumphant. "I knew it was here and I finally found it. Harry, I think I've found the answer to your problem. I'll just be a minute, I need to cross-reference some of those things, write down a chart to be able to explain it to you and have my parents mail me another book and I'll tell you _everything_! I'll... I'll be right back!" She stood up and ran out of the room excitedly, leaving her friends dumbstruck.

Ron looked at Harry and grinned widely.

"You reckon she's ever going to tell us anything before running to the metaphorical library?" he asked, amused.

"You know Hermione. When in doubt – get a book," Harry replied, mostly amazed that Ron knew the word 'metaphorical'. Spending the summer with Hermione was clearly paying off.

"What's..." Ron scratched his head, probably wondering if he forgot something important that he had already been told, as he was wont to do. "What _is _your problem anyway and why haven't you said anything to me? Or... have you?" His voice got comically high on those last two words.

"I, uh... I've been having nightmares. Voldemort, death, you know." Harry decided to leave the stuff about Cedric out. He didn't want to give Ron a wrong idea about the nature of his dreams. "Nothing dreadful. Nothing I can't handle." Suddenly, a thick, oily silence hung between the two of them as Ron was looking at him suspiciously. Harry clapped his hands together and motioned to the door. "Come on. Let's get downstairs before your Mum _Avada Kedavras_ both of us."

"But you said I was safe with you," Ron whined pathetically, apparently forgetting about his friend's dreams. Which was the goal Harry was aiming for.

"Yeah, I lied," he said. _No one is ever safe with me. _

They went downstairs and – after some trepidation on Ron's part – entered the de-gnomed garden. It was decorated with streamers in every colors, balloons were floating around in the air, completely on their own, as if led by an invisible hand holding an invisible string. Even the chickens had been magically dyed purple and gold. There was a small pavilion in the middle of the garden, under which a gigantic table was Transfigured earlier today from just a tiny splinter of wood. There were seventeen table settings and a huge, glistening dog bowl the size of a bath tub. Harry wondered about it for a second before a giant black dog jumped on him, leaving muddy paw prints all over his white shirt. He laughed and petted the dog's snout.

"Hello, Padfoot!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly elated. "Why are you..." he began to ask but when he realized that speaking was not possible while in animal form, he turned to Mr Weasley, who was standing off to the side, watching silently with a sad smile on his face. "Why is he a dog?"

"Our guests might arrive any minute now," Mr Weasley explained. "And while Molly was... persuaded to let a wanted fugitive come over for dinner, I'm afraid Amos and Victoria Diggory, as nice as they are, won't be so inclined. So Dumbledore decided that Sirius be allowed to visit you, as long as he doesn't show his true colors, so to speak."

"Ah," said Harry, crouching to give Padfoot another pat on the head. The dog licked his face vigorously. "Makes sense."

"I suppose it does. Ron, go help your sister with the flowers, would you?"

"But, Dad..." Ron started, but Mr Weasley cut him off.

"I need to speak to Harry alone. I'm sure he'll tell you everything later, but this way I won't be lying to your mother when I tell her you weren't anywhere near this conversation."

As Ron walked away, muttering vile curses under his breath, Harry grinned. He had always admired Arthur Weasley's parenting technique. His good mood faltered, though, when he saw the expression on Arthur's face.

"Harry, I'm afraid I must insist on reminding you once again not to speak openly about what happened at that graveyard." Mr Weasley's voice was stern and commanding. He knew then and there that this order had come straight from Mrs Weasley and as such, was to be respected. "You and Cedric know, I am sure Ron and Hermione do as well, do they?"

"O-of course," Harry stammered for a second. "Should I not have told them?"

"Dumbledore would have forbidden you to tell them if you hadn't been supposed to. That's not the point. We are all well used to the fact that the three of you tell each other everything. I think that's fantastic but the important thing is not to blurt anything stupid out in front of Ginny, the twins or Cedric's parents. We don't want them to know." Padfoot barked loudly in total agreement. "Not yet, at least. Got it?"

"Sure, Mr Weasley," Harry confirmed. "It's not like I'd want to talk about Voldemort at a party."

Mr Weasley shuddered at the mention of the name that must never be named. After a second, the older man placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder and left him alone with Sirius. Harry petted him once again and started to walk over to the table, but the dog barked once again and ran inside the house. He followed it begrudgingly. Suddenly, he didn't really feel like talking to anybody.

When he walked into the kitchen, Sirius was leaning on a counter, wrapped in a long black robe, concealing his nakedness. He smiled upon seeing Harry and hugged him tightly.

"It's good to see you, my boy," he said. Harry reciprocated the smile and the embrace. It was so comforting to be embraced by his own godfather. Even though that godfather was practically nothing but a glorified stranger. Next to the Weasleys and Hermione, Sirius was the closest thing Harry had to a real family. The Dursleys, naturally, did not count as such. "How have you been?" Sirius asked after letting Harry go.

"Good. I, uh... Yeah, good."

"What are you not telling me? And be quick about it, we don't have much time before your guests arrive and I become a house pet again."

"I... It's nothing, really, Sirius. I've just been... restless, that's all."

"Well, that's only natural after what you've been through. But you should be proud, not restless. You stopped Voldemort from coming back, for the third time. That's something to celebrate."

"I don't feel like celebrating," said Harry, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more. "I constantly feel like something bad is going to happen. And soon."

"It is, Harry." Sirius's voice got really grave all of a sudden. In an instant, a joyous godfather disappeared and a convicted fugitive returned. "Bad things happen all the time. Everywhere and to everyone. But it's not your fault and it's not your responsibility. You need to remember that or you will go mad."

"Yeah, Hermione thinks I'm already going mad." Harry regretted saying that instantly. Sirius's pupils dilated as he leaned in closer to the boy.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I've been having nightmares. About..." He stopped talking for a second, contemplating. "About Cedric Diggory dying."

"Cedric Diggory is the boy who was at that graveyard with you?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Yes. And I'm sure those dreams are just that, dreams. But Hermione seems to think someone might be feeding them to me to drive me insane."

Sirius scratched his unshaven chin, relaxing a bit.

"Well, that wouldn't be the first time something like that happened. But it's highly unlikely. You shouldn't worry too much." It was apparent that Sirius himself did, in fact, worry.

"I don't!" Harry felt obligated to exclaim, for Sirius's benefit _and _his own. Unfortunately, even he didn't believe that declaration.

Sirius smiled wearily.

"I have a birthday gift for you." He reached into one of the pockets of the robe he was wearing and produced a small mirror, unwrapped in any sort of way. Harry appreciated the simplicity. "Use it whenever you want to contact me. It'll be easier and faster than sending an owl and..." Harry heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Sirius must have heard them, too, as he quickly smiled once again and changed back into a dog in a flash. When Mrs Weasley entered the room and spotted the dog, she rolled her eyes.

"Pets aren't allowed in the house," she said icily directly to the dog. "Harry, dear, would you please show Padfoot the way out?"

"Sure, Mrs Weasley," Harry agreed, but didn't really have to, as Sirius ran out of the house, barking loudly and happily, surely just to spite the woman who so obviously despised him. "Do you need my help with anything? I could... carry stuff to the garden. Or something."

"No, dear," Mrs Weasley replied, looking at Harry's hair disapprovingly. She smiled, visibly resigned, deciding it was a hopeless cause. She had tried so many times to bring any order to Harry's hair, to no avail. "It's your day. You just enjoy."

"Thank you. And Mrs Weasley... Thank you for letting Padfoot come. It means a lot to me."

She smiled at him.

"I know, dear. I just hope he wiped his dirty paws on the doormat before he came inside. Now, Harry, go and enjoy the party."

He nodded and left the kitchen. He went upstairs to the room he shared with Ron, looking from time to time at the small mirror in his hand. What was it? And how did it work? Sirius didn't explain anything to him. Surely he would. But still, Harry wondered how in the world was it possible to communicate with another person through a mirror. After four years spent in the magical world, he still found things that amazed him to no end.

When he entered the room, he heard a soft shuffle and then saw Ron and Hermione sitting on Ron's bed, right next to each other, both intently staring at walls, their faces growing consistently redder. He fought to suppress a smile, absolutely sure that he understood what was going on before his entrance.

"Were you two kissing?" he asked playfully, suddenly amused.

"Harry, that's preposterous!" Hermione said, indignant, standing up and smoothing over her dress. "We were, uh, we were discussing those dreams you've been having."

"Right," he replied, beaming. "So what conclusion did the two of you reach?"

"No..." Ron coughed. "No conclusions yet. Still work at progress." He winked at Harry behind Hermione's back. Harry's grin got even wider.

"Alright, then." Hermione headed for the door. "Let's all get downstairs, the party's about to start."

When she left, an elated Ron walked up to Harry and patted his back.

"I'm totally one to kiss and tell, so... She and I... We're snogging."

"Yeah, I got that impression," replied Harry, putting the small mirror on his end table. "We'll talk about it. At length. But later."

Then, he followed Hermione to the garden with Ron right behind him. He was slowly getting tired of the mood rollercoaster he was on, but was glad that at least at this particular moment he found something to feel happy about. And then, right then, when he was finally somewhat glad, they walked out of the house and his heart sank deeper than it has in a long time.

"Hello, Harry," said Cedric Diggory, standing right in front of him and smiling. "You look well."


	3. Chapter 3: Fireflies and Fireworks

**Chapter 3: Fireflies and Fireworks**

Cedric stood in front of Harry, smiling, with a soft layer of stubble covering his cheeks. He was wearing a simple sweater and jeans. Even dressed normally, he was extraordinarily dashing. Harry quickly shook his head, shook the unwanted thoughts out of it. He extended his hand and greeted the newly arrived Cedric and his parents.

"Hi," he said lamely. "Good evening, Mr and Mrs Diggory."

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," Mrs Diggory said. She was a tall woman with dark brown hair and gray eyes, just like her son's. He suddenly understood why Cedric was so bloody handsome, with parents like that it wasn't really that hard. "We've heard so many things."

"All good, I hope," Harry replied. He tried to smile, but it seemed like he'd forgotten how to do it.

"Of course," Amos Diggory said jovially, taking Harry's hand and shaking it vigorously. "Cedric's a good lad, he'd never say a foul thing about anybody."

"It's nice to see you again, Mr Diggory. I, uh, I should get back to the kitchen, help with the preparations." Harry wanted nothing more than to get out of there. As glad as he was to see Cedric alive and well, he really didn't want to be in the same garden with him, not with all the feelings and emotions flying around.

"Don't be daft," Ron interrupted him. "Mum's taken care of everything. We're ready to start." Harry wanted to get his wand from their bedroom and _cruciate_ the living hell out of him. "C'mon, Mr and Mrs Diggory, I'll show you to the table. I'm sure my Dad would like a word or two."

"Oh, sure, I always have time for Arthur!" exclaimed Amos and laughed cordially. Then, Ron and the Diggorys marched off into the depths of the garden, leaving Harry and Cedric all alone. Harry looked at him and opened his mouth to say something. Anything, really. Nothing came out. The other boy seemed to be at a similar loss for words.

"So, uh..." Cedric finally decided to break the silence. He smiled once again, showing his perfectly white teeth. Why couldn't Harry's teeth be so white? It would be so much easier to smile then. "Thanks for inviting us. It was very thoughtful of you."

"I didn't actually invite you. Mrs Weasley did, I had nothing to do with it," Harry explained quickly and then blushed violently. Cedric's smile faltered. "But I _am_ glad you came!" he added quickly. "Really."

"Okay, I, uh, for the sake of the conversation let's say I believe you," Cedric said rascally, the grin lighting up his disposition once again.

"I really am!" Harry protested stubbornly. Why could he never hold his tongue?

"Stop it, Harry. I do believe you. And thank you. I actually wanted to talk to you quite a bit. I've been trying to write to you all summer but never could bring myself to do it."

"Why not?" Harry was strangely flattered that the other boy tried to get in contact with him. And strangely disheartened that he couldn't say the same thing about himself.

"I don't know how to talk to a person who nearly died with you," Cedric said, lowering his gaze to the ground.

A silence fell between them. Harry grabbed Cedric's arm and led him away from the main party area. He only stopped next to the hen house, at least a hundred feet away from the door to the house. They hid behind a big bushy plant where no one could see them.

"We can't talk about it where your parents can hear us, Cedric," Harry reminded him in a whisper. "Dumbledore said not to tell them, not yet at least. Did you? Tell them?"

"No! I would never disobey Professor Dumbledore like that!" The Diggory boy seemed to be a little offended by the accusation.

"I'm sorry. I just..."

"That's okay," Cedric assured him.

Harry kept quiet for a couple of seconds. He looked into the other boy's eyes, glistening and sparkling in the sunlight. He had to admit he kind of liked the stubble on Cedric's face, it made him look older and more mature than just seventeen. In a way, he _was_ older than seventeen. Facing Lord Voldemort would do that to a person. Finally, he decided he needed to speak soon or the moment between them would start getting even weirder, as Cedric was looking into Harry's eyes as well.

"It's not okay," Harry said. "I don't know how to talk to you, either. I've always been alone in front of him. Ron and Hermione always helped me a lot, but in front of _him_ I was always alone. I had to fight on my own. And that time, you were there. You helped me and you survived. It was..." Harry hesitated.

"Surreal?" Cedric proposed quietly. "Yeah. I know. I was... I was just an ordinary teenager, about to win The Triwizard Tournament. And then I survived a battle with Lord Voldemort and his lackeys. I feel..." It was Cedric's turn to fall silent.

"Different?"

"Yeah." Cedric touched Harry's arm gently. "At least you're not alone now. With this. There's another person out there who knows what it's like. That's kind of neat, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Listen, can we, uh..." Cedric hesitated as Harry looked into his eyes again. "Can we talk once in a while? When we're back at Hogwarts? I feel like... I feel like I want to talk to you once in a while. I've wanted to the whole summer."

"I know what you mean. I've actually been trying not to talk to you. Not to think about you. I've actually had a lot of dreams about you."

"That's flattering."

"You died in each and every single one of them."

"Okay, less so." Cedric smiled weakly. "But I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

Harry wanted to ask _"Who said that I did?"_ but he knew that at this point it would be pointless. He had to face that he did worry. That he did care. That he did think about that boy an awful lot.

"Can't promise that," Harry replied with the same weak smile. As Cedric's grin was getting wider and he was opening his mouth to answer, they heard Mrs Weasley's voice, calling them over for dinner. Harry nodded at Cedric and walked away from him with a confused thought rumbling around in his head.

Thought that he maybe wanted to kiss that boy.

But that couldn't be. Surely it couldn't.

* * *

A huge stack of unwrapped birthday gifts occupied the middle section of the table.

The dinner was spectacular. Mrs Weasley somehow managed to outdo herself, just like she seemed to at every occasion. Three hours later, as it was getting darker and darker, everyone sat full and satisfied on creaking chairs. Remus Lupin was regaling an amazed Mr Diggory with tales about being a werewolf and locking himself in a basement every full moon. Mrs Diggory, on the other hand, was sharing house cleaning tips with the hostess. Ron and Hermione were in their corner of the table whispering about something and grinning at each other very obviously. Fred and George were missing, probably up to no good and so was Hagrid. Bill and Charlie were playing cards at their end of the table while Mr Weasley was enjoying a stimulating game of catch with Padfoot using exclusively chicken bones.

Harry was sitting in front of Cedric, staring at his empty plate, doing everything in his power not to look at the boy opposite to him. He simply could not. He simply could not look and he simply could not feel like that.

Salvation came, when after five minutes of staring, he felt someone tap his shoulder gently. He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione standing over him.

"Harry' we'd like a word," Hermione said smiling politely. He nodded and walked off from the table with them. He glanced back once and noticed that Cedric wasn't staring at him. He felt a pang of icy disappointment. Suddenly, Padfoot ran up to them and trotted proudly in front of them, as if leading the way. When they were far enough from the table and well out of earshot, Hermione said, "I investigated your dreams. It seems possible that someone did in fact curse you, I'm afraid. The next time you fall asleep, I'll be doing some spells to make sure you're safe." It wasn't even a question, it was a statement.

"Hermione, don't panic, alright?" Harry said, indignant. "I'm just stressed and those are just dreams."

"But it makes no sense that you should be dreaming about the same person every night!" Hermione protested before she could realize what she was saying. She put a hand over her mouth as Harry quickly looked at Ron who suddenly had an interested expression on his face.

"Mate, who're you dreaming about?" he asked suspiciously. "_Him_?"

"Who do you mean?" Harry attempted to swallow a huge gulp of fear that had accumulated in his throat, to no avail.

"You know," Ron said, leaning closer. "You-Know-Who." Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and then shook his head in disagreement. Ron wasn't suspecting anything. It was a premature conclusion, though. "Is it Cedric?" he continued.

"How did you..." Harry said. He looked at Hermione accusingly. Padfoot barked in the same tone of voice. "Did you tell him?"

"I didn't, I swear!" she assured him.

"She didn't," Ron said neutrally. "Just assumed. I mean, you were at that graveyard together. So... Makes sense."

Harry stared at his best friend in amazement.

"I don't mean to be rude," he began, "but when did you get so smart?"

Ron shrugged and pointed at Hermione.

"Dunno. Been spending a lot of time with this one."

"Yeah, I noticed," Harry threw in. Padfoot barked once again and jumped up happily. "So what exactly..."

"I'll be investigating the matter further, Harry," Hermione interrupted him stiffly, her cheeks growing redder and redder. "I still think there might be something wrong. Maybe I'm paranoid, but stranger things have happened to us, like it or not." She marched off. Harry, Ron and Padfoot stared at her back.

"I think she's ashamed to admit she snogged me," Ron said.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said, patting his back. "I'm sure it's not like that."

"Are you kidding me?" Ron looked at him, his face lit up with the biggest of smiles. "It's brilliant! I get all the snogging with none of that relationship nonsense we lads always have to worry about. I'm telling you, she's brilliant."

"Don't need to know all the ghastly details, Ron," said Harry. And then, against his better judgment, he asked a question the answer to which he was dreading. "Aren't you... Aren't you a little weirded out that I'm dreaming of Cedric?"

"Hey, mate." It was Ron's turn to pat Harry's back. "I'm not here to judge."

And then he walked away to follow Hermione, yelling her name and asking her to slow down. Padfoot ran after him, jumping up and barking loudly. He must have really been enjoying his freedom. Harry felt happy. Ron's answer assured him that at least one of them was not disgusted by what was happening with him. A chilly breeze swept by him, ruffling up his hair. The summer was inevitably ending. Tomorrow, they were going back to school. Everything would get back to normal. Except, it never would.

"I heard my name." A voice came from behind him. Harry jumped up, terrified out of his wits for a second, and turned around to see Cedric, smiling and keeping his hands in his pockets.

"Oh God, you scared me, Cedric," Harry said, trying to calm down his racing heart. He knew, though, that being scared like that was only a part of the reason why his heart was beating at a tripled rate. "You shouldn't do that. And you shouldn't eavesdrop."

"I wasn't. I went for a walk. I like to take a walk after dinner. And I heard my name. That's all."

"Yeah, sure."

"And you're not weird. Or..." Cedric hesitated for a second. "Or I suppose it's possible we're both weird."

"What are you on about?"

"I've been having those dreams, too. Only in mine, it's you who dies."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes, it was. I think it's just a reaction to what we've been through." Cedric touched Harry's arm and leaned in, so that their faces were roughly on the same level. "You're not weird. You're absolutely, perfectly normal."

"I'm not perfectly anything," Harry grumbled softly, looking at Cedric's flawless complexion. He wanted to walk away, to get away from that glorious face, but he was unable to do so.

"I think you should give yourself more credit where credit is due." Cedric smiled and, suddenly, kissed Harry's forehead. The younger boy didn't flinch, didn't move at all, not even an inch. He wanted to run away _and_ he wanted another kiss. But most of all, he wanted a drink of cold water, preferably thrown at his face by a helpful soul. Cedric was still smiling as he pointed over Harry's shoulder and said, "Look. A firefly. Aren't they beautiful?"

The spot where a kiss was lain on his forehead burned as if someone stuck a hot poker to it. Slowly, he regained control over his body and looked at where Cedric was pointing. The glowing bug was flying majestically toward them, splattering its tiny wings in the chilly air and lighting up the night like a miniaturized star. It was getting closer and closer and finally, it sat on Cedric's outstretched hand and flickered in the dark. Cedric laughed heartily, clearly delighted. Harry looked at him once again in amazement.

"I have to go, Cedric," he said after a long, painful second.

"Why? What's wrong?" He seemed genuinely not to know. Harry wanted to come up with a better reply, but failed miserably.

"I have to go."

He ran off back to the pavilion, where everyone was still sitting and laughing, as if the world hadn't just started to turn in the wrong direction. When Mr Weasley saw him, he stood up and clapped his hands.

"Well, the birthday lad is here," he said very audibly. "Fred, George, Hagrid, if you please."

Everyone fell quiet. And then, there was an explosion, and everyone jumped up in terror. Then, to their amazement, the whole sky seemed to light up with different colors. There was a green dragon, a golden snitch chased by a brown broomstick, an orange lightning, a red locomotive. And then, to top it all off, a big, staggeringly accurate likeness of Harry's face, followed by an outburst of hearty laughter from everyone gathered at the table. Harry just stood there, trying to appreciate the fireworks show for what it was, and it was one of the nicest things ever done for him, but he was oddly numb. It all felt flat and meaningless to him, and he used to love fireworks.

Now they would only remind him of this night.

He could barely speak and move when everyone came up to him to congratulate him once again on accomplishing the task of living to see fifteen. He opened his mouth to everyone and he was sure he said things, but for the life of him, he could not recall them even a second after they escaped his lips.

He caught a glimpse of Cedric, barely visible, standing in the other end of the garden, looking at the ground. He felt he needed to go to him and comfort him. Apologize for his earlier behavior. Instead, he walked up to Hermione.

"Hermione, I need to..." He wanted to say "_talk to you_". But there was nothing to talk about. "I need to go to sleep. I'll just say goodbye to everyone and go, alright?"

"Fine, I'll..."

"You won't be experimenting on me while I sleep. That's not a request, Hermione, seriously, I'm well and good. You don't have to worry about me." People seemed to be saying that all the time tonight.

"Fine," she acquiesced wearily. "But we _will_ talk about this later."

"We will," he assured her. _We absolutely will_, he said, this time in his mind and only to himself. After five minutes, he left the party, having said goodnight to everyone and thanked the Diggorys for coming. He skipped Cedric. He felt that enough things had been said between them tonight.


	4. Chapter 4: The Journey

**Chapter Four: The Journey**

Cedric waited until his parents disappeared from view before he closed the window and looked down the corridor. Students everywhere started to walk away from the windows and trot down the narrow corridor in search of their friends or empty compartments. Cedric slowly and reluctantly headed to the Prefects' compartment, resisting the urge to elbow some first-years out of his way. Instead, he asked them if there was anything he could help them with. He was the Head Boy, after all.

He welcomed the expected appointment with no joy. This year, Cedric was planning to focus on his studies and limit other responsibilities to a reasonable minimum. It was not to be so, though. However, he didn't really complain. How could he? Just like Cedric's father said, Head Boyship could only enhance his chances for a good Ministry job. And that's what Cedric was supposed to do, work in the Ministry and be a perfect son. Wasn't he?

He didn't even know that anymore.

It seemed he was the last one to arrive for the Prefects' briefing. Which was made doubly awkward once Cedric realized that this year he was to do the briefing. He looked hopefully at his co-commander-in-chief, Clara Warrington, a newly appointed Head Girl from Ravenclaw. He had met her on several occasions and talked to her a few times during classes, enough to ensure him the girl had a small crush on him. She just smiled at him and looked at the ground.

Cedric sighed and turned to the rest of the people gathered in the compartment. He noticed Hermione Granger among them, which was utterly predictable. She sat there with her hands clasped on her knees and eagerness written all over her face. All that was lacking, was a scroll of parchment and a quill to take notes with. More to Cedric's surprise, next to Hermione he saw Ron Weasley, who looked like he had no idea what he was doing there. Well, judging from Ron's academic achievement and general attitude, neither did Cedric. All he wanted to do was find Harry – who was likely to be abandoned by his friends and really, really sad – and talk to him about yesterday. But the duty and the responsibility got in his way again, just as they had done all his life.

"Alright," he said, clapping his hands together and putting on an encouraging smile. "Everybody knows what a Prefect is and if you don't, you shouldn't be one. So do what you have to do, go see your friends and just patrol the train every two hours."

The crowd started to get up from their seats, when Cedric heard Clara cough silently.

"Cedric, um?" she said quietly. "If they all patrol once every two hours starting now, the train will be unsupervised for vast periods of time. Don't you think we should..."

"You know what?" Cedric interrupted her, deciding that lying was the best way out of the situation. "I actually have somewhere else to be right now." When she frowned, he quickly added, "I think I saw the Weasley twins carrying some..." His mind flashed to the night before, again. "Some fireworks. And that can't possibly good. I had better go and see what they're up to. You can finish here on your own, right?"

She nodded, a little flustered. Cedric stashed his trunk up in the overhead compartment, waved at his fellow Prefects and left the room. He slowly walked down the corridor, feeling an unfamiliar sensation in the depth of his stomach. He had never disobeyed his duty like that before. He guessed that the sensation must have been the satisfaction from breaking the rules. He made a mental note to talk about it to Fred and George Weasley one day. Although he had got the impression that they didn't like him very much...

He constantly looked to his right, switching between cars and looking for Harry's face. But before he could find him, he heard loud yelling from one of the compartments he was passing. He entered it and noticed his two best friends and roommates in the Hufflepuff dormitory, Jasper and Isaac, screaming at each other and flailing their arms around. Cedric smiled, seeing that they were so involved in their fight that they hadn't noticed he had walked in.

"And what are the two of you fighting about this time?" he asked, leaning on the door and crossing his arms on his chest.

"This jerk...!" Isaac, a tall boy with curly blonde hair, began, but when his eyes lay upon Cedric, he grinned and embraced his friend tightly. "Hi, Ced!"

"Yeah, we wondered when you were gonna come and see the old married couple," added Jasper, the shortest of the three with brown hair falling into his eyes. He pushed his boyfriend out of the way and hugged Cedric.

"It's good to see you, too," Diggory replied, trying not to laugh as Jasper was forcibly squeezing the air out of him. When he was finally free, he grinned at them. "So what were you screaming about?"

"This jerk here..." Isaac started, but when Cedric gave him a look, he changed his tune. "The love of my life here forgot to pack the cake my mum baked for us."

"I thought you'd packed it!" Jasper said defensively. "You always pack all of my stuff anyway! How was I supposed to know it was my job to pack it?!"

"Maybe because I specifically told you to remember to pack it because I left it in the kitchen for the night so it wouldn't get squished by all of your crap!"

"My crap?! And how about all those books you keep in your trunk all the time?!"

"Those are textbooks! I'm trying to get an education here!"

Cedric coughed to get their attention.

"I'll never know how I survived six years of living with you," he said, beaming. "But I am certainly glad that this is the last one I'll have to endure your company."

"Please," Isaac snorted. "Without us you have no social life."

"We _are_ your social life," Jasper joined in. "You'll be lost without us."

"I'll be just fine without you." Cedric looked out of the compartment and down the corridor. "Look, as much as I enjoy spending time listening to your constant bickering, I need to find someone. So, I'll see you later."

"Ooh," Jasper said, beaming. "Ced's got a boyfriend."

"Shut up."

"Yeah, who is it?" said Isaac, leaning in closer to Cedric. "Who do you _need_ to find?"

"None of your business," Cedric replied, even though the gulp of excitement was building up in his stomach. He desperately wanted to talk to someone about all those new feelings and he just knew that Isaac and Jasper were the right people for it.

"Come on," Isaac added, this time more seriously, which only cemented Cedric's desire. "If you want to talk about something, you know we're here for you. We tell you every dirty detail of our lives."

"Yes, but against my will," Diggory said. Finally, he decided not to keep all of it to himself anymore. "I think I kind of have a crush on Harry Potter."

"Oh please, who doesn't?" Isaac blurted out with no hesitation whatsoever. "I'd dump this one in a second if I had a chance to be with Harry Potter," he added, pointing in Jasper's direction.

"Hey!" Jasper exclaimed, indignant. "I'm still right here. Just because I hadn't spoken for thirty seconds, doesn't mean I disapparated, you malicious twat!"

"Who are you calling a twat?!" Isaac yelled back. "You're so stupid that you don't even know you can't disapparate on this train!" Cedric shook his head in disbelief. Somehow, his extremely self-absorbed best friends managed to make even his greatest admission about themselves. He stepped out of the compartment and slid the door shut behind himself. He really needed to find Harry. Harry was the person who should be hearing his confessions. Harry was the only person he wanted to talk to.

Three minutes later, in a different car, passing a different compartment, Cedric stopped even paying attention to what was in front of him and just walked on, constantly looking to his right. That caused him to inadvertently bump into someone tall and hard. Cedric looked up and saw a smirking Cormac McLaggen, which just further proved the theory he had, the one about the universe hating him with a passion.

Cormac McLaggen was one of the most annoying people Cedric had ever met, either in life or on the Quidditch pitch. He was rude, aggressive and inconsiderate. And Cedric had made the grave mistake of having slept with him once, after the Yule Ball, when he felt sad, alone and willing to be taken advantage of. Sadly, McLaggen did not understand that all it was – was a one time thing.

"Diggory," Cormac said, eying Cedric from head to toe with lust written all over his face. Cedric had to fight to suppress a groan of disgust that he felt for both of them at the moment. "Fancy running into you here."

"Yeah, who'd ever think a Hogwarts student would be on the Hogwarts express, right?" replied Cedric, noticing with disappointment that there was absolutely no way to pass McLaggen. He was simply to big and too burly to go around him.

Cormac's smile faltered as he struggled to understand Cedric's sarcastic response. It was pretty obvious that using his brain physically hurt him.

"In any case," he said finally, the sleazy smirk returning to his face. "You given any thought to my proposal from last year?"

"Yeah," Cedric said, shivering with barely contained disdain. "Yeah, I have."

"So, I suppose I'll be seeing you tonight in the Boathouse, huh?" Cormac asked, coming closer to Cedric, their torsos almost touching. Cedric took a small step back.

"No, you won't be seeing me, McLaggen," he replied, trying to stay calm and not blast him out of the way with his wand. "I've told you a million times, I regret having slept with you and a thousand showers wasn't enough to scrub that feeling off. So please, stop harassing me or I _will_ have to ground you for a month."

"For what?!" Cormac asked, indignant.

"Sexual harassment." Cedric smiled politely. "Now get out of my way, McLaggen, and go back to your place. I have places to be."

Reluctantly, McLaggen stepped aside and made a couple of inches of space for Cedric to walk past him. As he was heading down the narrow corridor again, trying to forget that his encounter with the other boy had ever happened – or that the other boy had ever seen him naked and touched his body with those sleazy hands – he heard McLaggen's voice once again.

"You'll regret it, Diggory! Knowing a McLaggen could be good – _stop _pushing me, you little moron...!"

Cedric did not even turn around to see who McLaggen was terrorizing at the moment. He just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. And find Harry. Yeah.

Find Harry.

* * *

After a night spent lying awake and staring at the ceiling while listening to Ron's incessant snoring, and now being abandoned by his Prefect friends, Harry wanted nothing more than to relax and get a couple of hours of dreamless sleep on the train to Hogwarts. He spent more than ten minutes looking for a somewhat empty compartment or at least someone he knew and liked. He had spotted Neville crammed into a packed compartment and Ginny talking to her girlfriends on the corridor. He waved to both of them and trotted on, dragging his trunk with difficulty.

Finally, he saw a compartment occupied by only one person – a girl with waist-length blonde hair and exceptionally big eyes that made her look really surprised. She was wearing a necklace made of Buttercream caps and reading a magazine upside down. Harry slid the door open and walked in.

"Are those seats taken?" he asked, pointing to the couch opposite the girl.

"No." She looked up at him, her stare lingering for a while on his scar. "No one ever wants to sit with me."

Harry smiled uncomfortably and put his trunk in the overhead compartment. He sat down and looked at the girl's magazine. It was called _The Quibbler_. He had never even heard of it. And why she was reading it upside down, he really preferred not to know.

"You're Harry Potter," she stated neutrally, looking straight at him.

"Yeah, I, uh, I've been told," he replied, feeling more and more uneasy. Suddenly, he began to understand why the compartment was empty.

"I'm Luna Lovegood. But everyone calls me Loony." She shrugged.

Harry felt bad for thinking "_Can't imagine why..." _

"It's nice to meet you, Luna. What are you reading?"

She looked at him for a while, her stare drilling into him suspiciously, as if she was searching for concealed mockery.

"It's a calendar," she conceded after a couple of seconds. "You're supposed to read it this way. It tells you when you're going to die."

"Oh." Harry was at a loss, searching for something to say, anything, really. "So... when _are you_ going to die?"

"Oh, I'm not checking for myself, it's bad luck. I can try and predict your death!" she proposed vigorously. She was visibly excited about making a new friend.

"No, thank you," Harry replied, smiling politely and looking for his Invisibility Cloak in his pockets. "I've got Professor Trelawney for that..."

Suddenly, the door to the compartment opened and Harry saw Draco Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle, standing on the threshold. Malfoy had his arms crossed on his chest, looking smug as ever with his slick hair and flawlessly pale complexion. There was a Prefect's badge pinned to the front of his robes. Harry looked at him in disgust and made sure that his wand was right next to him on the couch.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Expanding your social circles, huh, Potter?" Malfoy smiled widely when he saw Luna. "First the Weasleys, that Granger Mud-Blood, now you're making friends with the clinically insane? To think, we had such hopes for you." Crabbe and Goyle cackled obediently. Malfoy seemed to inflate with their validation.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said, clutching his wand. The boy must have had some guts, coming up to him as if his own father hadn't been one of the Death Eaters who had tried to murder Harry and Cedric just a short couple of months ago.

"Let him talk, Harry," Luna interrupted him, looking at him calmly, paying no attention whatsoever to Malfoy's words. "Only small dogs need to bark to make themselves feel important."

"Shut up, Lovegood!" Malfoy's face reddened in an instant. "You're lucky _my father_'s never sued your mad fool of a father for all that slander he's been publishing about our family!"

Luna looked at him and tilted her head, still keeping quiet. Harry burst out with laughter, seeing Malfoy almost driven up the wall. He made a mental note to congratulate Luna later. She had already impressed him immensely with her self-control. Malfoy, on the other hand, blushed even more violently, ripping his wand out of the pocket of his robe and pointing it at Harry.

Before Harry could react and curse the little snot, he heard a familiar, commanding voice.

"Is there a problem?"

Harry immediately recognized the voice as Cedric's. He sank a little bit in his seat.

"No," Malfoy replied quickly, hiding the wand. "No problem at all. Just having a friendly chat with Potter here."

"You've never had a friendly chat with anyone in your life, Malfoy," Cedric said coolly. "Get out of here. And if I see you threatening anybody ever again, I'll give you detention for the rest of your Hogwarts career."

"You can't give me detention!" Malfoy snorted. "Prefects can't ground other Prefects!"

"Unfortunately for you, I'm the Head Boy." Cedric was now dangerously close to Malfoy, looking down at him with an angry expression. "So scram before I get nasty."

"Alright," Malfoy replied and walked away. His lackeys followed him. Harry distinctly heard the boy say, "Jesus, someone's got their knickers in a knot..."

Cedric rolled his eyes before turning to face Harry. He coughed a couple of times before he could manage to speak.

"I simply cannot wait to catch him jinxing a first-year and ground him for life... Harry, uh... Could I talk to you?" He hesitated. "Outside?"

"Yeah," Harry said reluctantly, getting up from the couch. Luna gave him a lingering stare with an eyebrow raised. He stepped out of the compartment, shut the door and leaned on the wall, looking out of the window, marveling at the monotonous landscape. "What's this about?" he asked when Cedric failed to say anything, shifting his gaze to the other boy's gray eyes.

"It's... It's funny." Cedric giggled nervously under his breath. "I'm so used to speaking only when it's absolutely necessary to speak, I don't actually know what to say right now."

"I know," Harry replied quietly. "Strong and silent."

"What?" Cedric looked up into his eyes. A shiver ran down Harry's spine.

"Nothing, it's... The girls from my Quidditch team used to say that about you. That you're strong and silent. I guess that's true." He looked down at the floor.

"I guess so." A silence fell between them again. "Harry, last night I got the feeling that you were avoiding me for some reason. Why... Why?" he finished lamely.

"You..." Harry swallowed a gulp of nervousness that accumulated in his throat. He noticed that Cedric was fiddling with his sweaty fingers uneasily. "You kissed my forehead," he whispered, looking back up at him. "It was weird."

"I..." Cedric kept quiet for a couple of seconds. Finally, he managed to smile the tiniest of smiles. "Harry, I'm not good with words. And I sensed you needed reassurance and comfort. So I wanted to give it to you. The only way I know how. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean anything by it. It was just that."

Harry felt that he should be able to relax right then, but somehow a wave of cold disappointment washed over him. Knowing that the kiss meant nothing should make him feel better. So why didn't it?

"Well, it did," he said quietly. "Please don't ever do that again..."

"Alright." Cedric smiled more widely. "If you don't like that, I won't do it again."

"Good." Harry looked away.

"So, friends?" Diggory asked, extending a hand. Harry reluctantly took it and shook it.

"Friends."

"So I'll see you around, huh?"

"Sure."

As Cedric was turning around to walk away, showing Harry his majestic behind, Harry grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Cedric, do you..." He coughed, trying to get the words out of his throat. Suddenly he felt like a garbage disposal with a fork stuck inside of it. "Do you like it?"

"Like what?" Cedric furrowed his brow.

"Being kissed... by boys?"

Diggory grinned and winked at Harry.

"I don't like it. I love it."

And with those words, he was off.

Harry stood alone in that corridor for what felt like hours. At some point, a younger student violently bumped into him, ripping him out of his trance-like state. He shook his head, still not sure if he had heard Cedric correctly. That couldn't be true. Probably was. But most surely not.

He entered the compartment and sat down opposite from Luna, who was eying him suspiciously.

"So," she said, "what were you and your boyfriend fighting about?"

Harry sat up straight.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Oh. I'm sorry." Luna returned to reading _The Quibbler_. "It just looked like you were having a lovers' spat."

"We're not..." Harry sighed. For some reason, he trusted the girl in front of him. It was probably the way she'd handled Malfoy's abuse. "Promise not to tell anybody?"

"Even if I wanted to, nobody would believe me." She put aside the magazine and looked at Harry. "I'm Loony Lovegood."

He hesitated for a good half a minute.

"I think I might like him," he said finally. Immediately, he felt immense relief. It was lucky he was sitting, otherwise he might have fallen when all of the tension left his body. "In a... romantic way."

"It's pretty obvious you fancy him." She shrugged.

"You don't think it's disgusting?"

"Why would I?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, to Harry's amazement. "There's nothing wrong with it. And there's nothing wrong with you. He is the most handsome boy in school."

"No, I meant... don't you think that it's wrong for two boys to like each other in... that way?"

"There's _nothing_ wrong with it," she repeated, as if still not understanding his question.

Harry sat back on his couch and relaxed a little. After a while, he laughed out loud. He felt as if a huge elephant weight was air-lifted from his chest. He couldn't stop laughing. Finally, when he composed himself, he looked at Luna and beamed at her.

"Thank you, Luna," he said gratefully. "You're not Loony, you're very wise."

She smiled back at him, a little uneasily.

"And you're alright, too, Harry Potter."


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations, Good and Bad

**Chapter 5: Revelations, Good and Bad**

The train stopped and Harry hopped off the stair, gracefully landing on the ground. He was the first person on the platform and for a blissful fraction of a second enjoyed the briskness of the air. Then, all hell broke loose, as more and more people joined him, filling the surroundings with incessant chatter and screeches of their pets.

Harry smiled and waved at Luna, who stood a couple of feet away from him. She reciprocated the gesture before walking off and disappearing into the crowd. He followed her, elbowing his way through the platform, looking for Ron and Hermione, who, as Prefects, should be supervising the flow of people. He finally spotted them and quickened the pace to join them. Ron, who seemed profoundly uninterested in supervising anything, patted him on the shoulder with a grin. Hermione on the other hand, was trying to shout directions to the student body, which seemed to be stuck in a stand-still.

Harry was looking around in search of one more familiar face. Then he finally saw it, in all of its shaggy magnificence, towering over everybody else. Harry, Ron and Hermione waved at him vigorously, but Hagrid did not notice them, busy gathering first-years for their traditional boat ride.

"_COME ON, PEOPLE!" _A magically magnified voice rolled over all of them, effectively silencing the entire platform worth of teenagers. Harry looked around and saw Cedric with his wand touching his throat. He realized that Diggory was using the same spell that Ludo Bagman had used while providing commentary during the Quidditch World Cup last year. Harry smiled, feeling a warm sensation in his stomach. He did not hate it. "_TAKE IT ON THE MOVE!" _

The crowd obeyed the command and headed towards the exit from the platform. Slowly, the students started to man the carriages that seemed to be drawn by nothing. Harry suddenly wondered if maybe they were drawn by some magically invisible horses and the thought fascinated him.

He, Ron and Hermione took their seats and were soon joined by a joyous Ginny and a haggard Neville.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said upon seeing Neville. "How's it going?"

"I lost Trevor again," he confessed miserably. Ginny touched his arm consolingly.

"Well," Hermione said in a comforting voice. "He always seems to find his way back to you."

"I suppose..."

A silence fell between them.

"There really seems to be a lot of first-years, right?" Ginny spoke suddenly.

"Yeah," Ron confirmed. "And they're getting smaller and smaller each year."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed reprovingly.

"What, it's the truth! And I swear, we were much taller at their age. Not to mention, saving the Philosopher's Stone from..."

"Ron!" Hermione repeated, more and more ticked off.

"They all know!" Ron said, pointing at Ginny and Neville. They most certainly did. Ginny was very adept at eavesdropping and collecting information no one wanted her to have, and Neville was one of the obstacles they had to go through in order to save the Stone.

"Still," Hermione hissed, before looking away. Harry, who to this point had been deeply immersed in thoughts of Cedric and his commanding presence, was roughly ripped out of his fantasies by his friends' squabble. He had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach that something nasty had happened between the two of them. It sure seemed like their little group was headed for another one of their annual rifts.

Ginny and Neville seemed to feel it, too, as all five of them kept quiet for the rest of the ride. Harry sat back and closed his eyes. All he saw under his eyelids was Cedric's face. He was surprised how good it felt to think about that boy freely. The conversation he'd had with Luna seemed to have liberated him in more ways than just one.

The long line of carriages finally reached Hogwarts, just as the silence was becoming unbearable. Harry quickly jumped out of the vehicle and walked toward the entrance to the castle, not really waiting for the others. To the left he spotted Draco Malfoy, whispering something to Pansy Parkinson, who was hanging from his arm and giggling at his every word. Harry rolled his eyes and fought the urge to vomit.

Before they entered the Entrance Hall, he was joined on the stairs by Ron, who had a troubled expression on his face.

"Something wrong, mate?" he asked Harry in a hushed voice. "You've been awfully quiet."

"Everything's fine." Harry smiled at him reassuringly. "What's going on with you and Hermione?"

"We kind of had a fight," Ron said, turning around to steal a brief look at the girl. "She said I'm irresponsible and disrespectful and that it drives her mad every time I open my mouth."

"That's rough," Harry said, raising his eyebrows. "But, truth be told, you are irresponsible and disrespectful."

"Yeah, but I used to think that's what she liked about me. I mean, you like that about me, right?"

Harry looked at him, trying not to laugh hysterically.

"I have come to be fond of it, yes," he replied. Ron's only answer was a puzzled expression and a thoughtful crease on his forehead.

Harry was in surprisingly high spirits, especially after he had caught a glimpse of Cedric leading the mass of students to the Great Hall. A couple of minutes later they were all seated at their table, Ron and Hermione ostentatiously sitting at Harry's both sides and not saying a word to each other. Harry sighed heavily, trying not to look at the Hufflepuff table at the other end of the Hall. Before he knew it, a soaked Hagrid was joining the staff table and Professor McGonagall was leading the surprisingly big group of first‑years into the room.

The Sorting Hat started its song, to which Harry did not pay much attention. He had already heard it twice, and, though the lyrics varied each year, the message was always the same and hearing it once would be enough for even the most dim-witted to understand it. Instead, he looked at the staff table and noticed a face he did not recognize.

"Who is that?" he whispered to Hermione, nodding toward the person in question, seated between Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra, which prompted Harry to think that, whoever he was, he was a Ravenclaw.

He was a tall and pale man with jet‑black hair and remarkably large blue eyes. He was dressed in a black robe that seemed two sizes too large for him. He was smiling at the Sorting Hat but keeping his mouth suspiciously shut.

"Probably the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Hermione said assuredly.

"How do you figure?"

"Harry, there's only one position in this school that is occupied by a different person each year. It really doesn't take a genius to figure it out." She kept quiet for a second. "And if you need further proof, look at Professor Snape."

Harry did as she commanded, and indeed saw Snape giving the new teacher the dirtiest of stares. Harry experienced a jolt of happiness seeing Snape so furious. It already was one of the highlights of the year.

"So what do you think is his problem?" he asked after a while, as the Hat continued its never‑ending song. "We've already had a two-faced maniac, a thieving narcissist, a werewolf with a heart of gold and a Death Eater. So what's this guy's deal? What more could there possibly be?"

"Are you taking bets?" Hermione asked, slightly amused. "It sure would be nice to have a normal, stable teacher for once."

"Yeah, that isn't going to happen," Harry noted. "The position is cursed. He'll probably just die before the year's over..."

"Don't be so morbid, Harry," she reprimanded him. "We will see. I choose to be hopeful."

"It's not going to work for me..."

"Hush now, Harry. The song's coming to a close..."

Indeed, a minute later, the Hat closed its tear of a mouth and Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a longer than usual scroll of parchment. She proceeded to read the names of new students and the Hat proceeded to sort them into one of the four Houses, just as it had done every year for a thousand years. Harry wondered briefly if it had ever got tired of the job and considered resigning its post.

He clapped along with the rest of the table every time a new student was sorted into Gryffindor and booed loudly for every fresh Slytherin. Finally, when the ceremony was over – they had only one near hatstall this year, for which Harry was grateful as his stomach started to grumble with hunger – and every student was seated at the right table, Professor McGonagall joined the staff table and Albus Dumbledore rose from his majestic chair.

The Headmaster looked proudly at the students gathered in the Hall, as a loving grandfather would look at his grandchildren. When he saw that look, that sparkle in Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes, Harry knew he was home and his reluctance to go back to school was suddenly gone.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said loudly with playfulness audible in his voice. "To some of you – welcome for the first time, to some of you – welcome back. There are many things to say, many joyous news to share. But first things first. Tuck in!" he finished, and as the last syllable reverberated through the air, the many plates on the tables magically filled with all kinds of wonderfulness.

Ron exclaimed happily and grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes nearest to him. He put two spoonfuls on his own plate and then went straight for the pork chops. Hermione snorted with disdain, giving Ron a nasty look which he utterly ignored, engrossed in the glorious act of eating.

"Oh mah gawd!" he said with his mouth full, spitting the food all over the place. "Dis is sah good..."

Harry smiled under his breath and followed in his best friend's footsteps. The butterflies that had filled his stomach earlier seemed to have evolved into a raging monster of hunger. He filled his plate with potatoes, roast beef and lamb chops and lots of gravy. Then, when the desserts appeared, he consumed an obscene amount of chocolate ice cream and apple pie. What felt like hours later, he was so full, he felt like he could explode at any moment.

When the clunk of cutlery quieted down, all food was magically cleared from the tables and Professor Dumbledore stood up once more.

"That was certainly a marvelous feast," he spoke with contentment, beaming at the students. "There are many things to discuss tonight, therefore I will ask for your patience and understanding. Let us get the most important things out of the way first. Mr Filch, our caretaker, asked me to remind you all that using magic outside of class is strictly forbidden and that the full list of items banned from school grounds is available in his office. I ask all of you to acquaint yourselves with it to avoid future embarrassments and detentions."

He gave a meaningful look to Fred and George. The twins beamed at each other with mischievous sparks in their eyes.

"I would also like to remind you," the Headmaster continued, "that the Forbidden Forest is, well, forbidden. No student may enter it without the assistance of a teacher." He stopped for a couple of seconds, letting the information sink in. "Now, let us proceed to more joyous news.

"I ask you to greet warmly Professor Grubbly-Plank, whom some of you have already had the pleasure to meet. She will be replacing Professor Hagrid for the semester as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

Harry, Ron and Hermione instantly looked at each other in shock. It seemed that none of them had even noticed Grubbly‑Plank's presence at the staff table.

"What?" Ron said, perhaps a bit too loudly, as the Headmaster looked at him scoldingly. Ron hushed instantly. Harry didn't speak a word, instead looking at Hagrid questioningly. Hagrid only mouthed _"later"_ before turning his eyes elsewhere.

"I also have the distinct pleasure of introducing our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore went on, pointing his hand to the black-haired gentleman in the large robe. The man stood up and smiled widely at the Hall. Harry gasped along with the rest of the student body.

The man had fangs.

Vampire fangs.

The gasp was followed by a second of stunned, vibrating silence. And after that long second, everyone started to talk, filling the Hall with the kind of noise Harry had never heard before in his life.

"Well," Hermione whispered, more to herself than to anybody else, strangely calm. "That's new..."

Ron stared at her in astonishment.

"He's a... He's a..." he stuttered and then quickly looked at Harry with fear written all over his face. "That man's a vampire! What... What..."

Dumbledore clapped his hands together, only once, but that was sufficient to silence the entire Hall in an instant.

"This is Professor Elijah Coleridge." Dumbledore's voice was steady. There was no hesitation in it, no stress. "He is a qualified teacher, a skilled wizard and a good person."

"A person, yeah..." Ron snorted. Harry elbowed him violently.

"To add to the pile of good news," the Headmaster spoke on, not giving anyone time or opportunity to voice protestation, "in light of the immense success that was The Triwizard Tournament last year, I am pleased to announce that Hogwarts will be hosting another international event.

"The first ever Dueling Tourney will be held over the course of the year. We will be joined by elected students from magical schools from all over the world. Every student over the age of fifteen will be eligible to participate in the Tourney. Further details will be announced by your Heads of Houses in due time."

The announcement was followed by an overwhelming silence from the students, so different from the excitement that had erupted after the Triwizard Tournament was announced. People looked at each other in bafflement, probably caused by the wizarding community's reluctance to accept anything that was "the first ever". Wizards preferred tradition and did not take kindly to novelties.

"What the hell is a Dueling Tourney?" Ron asked, looking to Harry and Hermione for answers.

"Dumbledore said, literally a minute ago, that it's never been done before," Hermione said quietly. "Would it kill you to pay attention to what's going on around you for once?"

Ron just rolled his eyes and looked away.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at his students once more.

"Well, it was a splendid feast and a spectacular beginning to what I am sure will be a spectacular year," he exclaimed. "I wish you all good night and a nice weekend. Now, go off to your beds. Do not let the bedbugs bite you." With that, he sat down and began a conversation with Professor McGonagall.

Harry stood up and, not really understanding what had happened, followed Ron and Hermione out of the Great Hall. He drew comfort from the fact that everybody else seemed to be just as confused as he was. After all, it is not everyday that you learn your new teacher is a vampire.

_Well_, he thought cautiously. _This looks like an interesting start. _


End file.
